


things you said with no space between us

by cafekeiji



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Lack of Communication, Light Angst, M/M, kind of theyre just oblivious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:14:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29324523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cafekeiji/pseuds/cafekeiji
Summary: Although calling Shoyo his partner — his, would be a lie. In the devastating reality Shoyo would never be his, even when there was no space between them.or that's what atsumu thinks.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 8
Kudos: 83





	things you said with no space between us

**Author's Note:**

> 'you're the sun, you've never seen the night  
> but you hear its song from the morning birds  
> well, i'm not the moon, i'm not even a star  
> but awake at night i'll be singing to the birds'

As much as Atsumu enjoys their arrangement, much less for the physicality aspect and much more for Shoyo's presence itself, he much prefers the hours after. 

They stay up for what feels like hours. Sometimes Shoyo lays on his chest and plays with his hair, other times he passes out quickly with his body pressed against Atsumu's back, arm around his waist. 

Tonight Atsumu holds Shoyo's hand within his own, kissing the tips of his fingers as his partner speaks softly, on the verge of falling asleep. 

Although calling Shoyo his partner — _his_ , would be a lie. An illusion cast like a distorted reflection upon water; believing this arrangement could be anything more than what it was would only hurt him in the end.

In the devastating reality Shoyo would never be his, even when there was no space between them. 

Atsumu remembers each encounter just as it happened before him, memories that keep him occupied when watching Shoyo spike, or on cold nights where he’s alone, bed painfully empty. He remembers the warmth of Shoyo’s palms against his shoulder blades, the awkward fight between sticky sheets in their haste, how Shoyo’s pulse felt under his lips. 

Afterwards, it’s Atsumu who ushers them into a bath — the sheets were bad enough, let alone the state they were both in; sweaty and gross. And that’s how it always goes, every single time. It’s a routine Atsumu revels in, a domesticity he didn’t know he craved, and Shoyo began to settle into it. 

But Shoyo’s spent. Atsumu graciously spares him a few minutes to cool down, but truthfully he needs one himself too. 

“Y’know, it’s really crazy,” he says, and his voice is just a bit hoarse. “How you promised to set for me. and you really are now! It’s like you really waited just for me.” 

Atsumu's chest is struck with a cold pain, his heartbeat picking up. _I did,_ he wants to say. 

Instead he scoffs, and if Shoyo notices the bitterness behind it he doesn’t show it. “Yeah, crazy coincidence, huh? Guess I’m just a man of my word.”

Shoyo laughs too, and Atsumu can feel the movement against his bare chest, tickling and faint and warm. He smiles, wishing this were how it always was. 

Casual pillow talk, that’s what they exchange, Atsumu thinks, but pillow talk shouldn’t hurt this badly. 

Atsumu wants to pull away, shower on his own, that somehow rinsing off the sweat and cum would wash away the overwhelming feelings he has for Shoyo with it. 

Instead he washes Shoyo’s hair, who in turn washes his. He supposes he can push through this arrangement, so long as he has moments like these.

**…**

“Tsum-Tsum, you’re not listening to me!”

Atsumu blinks, not realizing he zoned out. Bokuto is scolding him - but really, can he blame him? Bokuto could talk to a wall for hours. Though there’s no real hurt behind his words, Bokuto’s still smiling, as usual. 

“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that. Zoned out. When’s everyone else gettin’ here?”

It became a usual for them to all grab dinner together when they all found the time, but Atsumu wasn’t all too fond of these things. He found the dishes served at well-received restaurants lacked the comfort that something like street food or homemade dishes provided.

Bokuto hums, really putting thought into it, but Omi cuts in.

“Shoyo. Don’t say ‘everyone else’, he’s the only one not here yet.”

It startles both Bokuto and Atsumu, but the former bursts out laughing. He pats both of them on the back heartily, chiding them in a mocking tone, but Atsumu can’t make it out.

Atsumu runs cold, feels like he’s been caught. A part of him feels as if Omi knows, has seen how shameless he is; judging him silently. 

But that’s ridiculous. Omi is definitely just teasing him. This arrangement is _really_ starting to come back to bite him. 

“Ya, well, it’s hard to remember yer here, with yer back all slouched to the wall!”

It makes Bokuto laugh even more, and thank god. 

“Sorry I’m late!” _Oh._ Atsumu can’t tell if the twist in his chest is from butterflies or nerves building up. But whatever conclusions he jumps to in his head, he always finds himself happy to be around Shoyo. He smiles at him, which Shoyo doesn’t hesitate to return, standing closely at his side. 

“I took a shower and I guess it was too long,” He laughs at himself, and Bokuto seems to agree on whatever they start to discuss. Something about the weather, getting stuck in showers - Atsumu doesn’t care all that much. 

Not when Shoyo is right beside him, a hand holding onto the back of his own arm gently, as if they were going to intertwine them any second from now. Atsumu feels warm, way too warm considering the winter weather. 

Shoyo’s cheeks and nose are dusted pink, his eyes are shining. Atsumu feels his breath catch at the sight, he looks like an angel. 

“Come on! I’m hungry!” Bokuto calls from ahead of them.

Shoyo looks up at Atsumu and grins, catching him, and Atsumu wishes he were taking Shoyo on a date of their own under the city lights. Calling Shoyo an angel may be a bit of a juxtaposition, given their current relationship, but Atsumu can’t see him as anything else. 

Shoyo sits across from Atsumu, beside Bokuto. Omi sits beside Atsumu, and this was how it always was. This time they’re at a ramen place Shoyo enjoys - they always take turns deciding where to eat. Sitting across from Shoyo, at the place _he_ chose, makes it feel more special than it should to Atsumu. 

The three of them fall into their usual talk, with Omi listening and cutting in here and there, but a nudge against his foot has Atsumu quieter than usual. Peering under the table he notices Shoyo’s foot beside his own. 

When he looks up, Shoyo’s already glancing at him any moment he gets, with a sheepish grin as he goes along with Bokuto’s conversation. Atsumu knows this look; but he grins back at Shoyo, rolling his eyes playfully, hoping to hide whatever feelings are rising up. 

He looks at his phone and, as expected, Shoyo’s text him. 

sho, 7:12pm

‘sorry!! can i spend the night at your place??’

sho, 7:14 p.m.

‘also you look really good ;p caught you staring earlier!!!!!!!!’

Atsumu can’t help but laugh. Shoyo definitely had his own charm. He quickly types a reply, kicking Shoyo’s foot, playful and light. It surprises Shoyo, and both men across from Atsumu accuse him of being ‘so rude’. 

Shoyo’s gaze lingers on Atsumu, long after the conversation has shifted once more, even after they eat and pay. 

Naturally, he stares back. They try communicating through expression alone, completely engrossed in their own little game. Beside him, Omi has been quiet. Even Bokuto has caught their attention slipping, away from himself. 

  
  


That night is the same as any other. And Atsumu has no problem with it. The problem lays within the feelings that he can no longer ignore. 

As if Atsumu could ever say no. He had always been weak when it came to Shoyo. He loved this time together, alone and intimate, despite his conflicting feelings.

They lay on their sides, facing one another. Their legs are tangled with the sheets, and Shoyo strokes Atsumu’s cheekbone with his thumb. The touch is so gentle, so loving; Atsumu wants to cry. 

“You look really pretty right now,” Shoyo breaks the silence in a whisper shout, like there’s anyone else near them, anyone else awake. But Atsumu can’t laugh. He feels himself flush, and he wonders if Shoyo can feel his face heat up under his palm. 

“Ya always look pretty, yer such a sap,” He smiles, bringing Shoyo’s palm to his lips, placing a kiss there. He hears Shoyo’s breath hitch in response, his eyes light up as he grins. Shoyo props himself up with his arm, leaning over Atsumu. 

“You really think so?!”

Shoyo is beaming, and before Atsumu can go through a list of words to describe that smile - _bright, holy, beautiful, sacred, perfect_ \- Shoyo presses a kiss to his cheek. One on his nose. And it's not long before Atsumu can’t keep up. 

“Yeah? What, ya take me for a liar or somethin,” Atsumu’s laughing alongside Shoyo, bringing a hand up to cradle the nape of his neck. Atsumu runs his fingers through the hair there. The feather-light kisses tickle, the presence of one fades as another is pressed onto his skin. 

“Hmm,” Shoyo ponders, pretends he’s thinking long and hard, “Sometimes.”

The hum against his skin makes Atsumu sigh, and Shoyo holds his gaze once he pulls away.

…

One would think that their arrangement would get in the way of their performance, but that’s not the case at all. Atsumu and Shoyo have always been close through the time they’ve been playing together. They still talk, joke, laugh, celebrate just as they normally would.

But Atsumu would be lying saying it wasn’t the case _at all._

Everytime Shoyo smiles his way, bright and self accomplished, or pulls him in a hug, or laughs over a joke shared between just the two of them; Atsumu wants to melt right then and there. It sucks being so whipped. Shoyo had no right having this effect on him.

Atsumu wipes sweat from his brow, turning to look at Shoyo, who’s already watching him.

…

To be fair, they didn’t act on their arrangement often. Sometimes they just had sleepovers that turned into something more, and sometimes they would simply celebrate and destress together.

Shoyo sleeps against him, using his arm as a pillow and Atsumu can’t pay any attention to the numb, prickly feeling under. _No_ , he’s much too into his own head tonight.

Most of the night was spent in Atsumu’s bed, wrapped around one another. Shoyo peered up at him expectantly, like he wanted Atsumu to spill his thoughts. Tonight Atsumu drowned in Shoyo’s affections, and though he’s not complaining; he misreads it as simple, friendly worry.

He had asked a few times, ‘Are you sure, ‘Tsumu?’ _Of course. Absolutely. I’m sure._ ‘Is something wrong?’ _No, well, not_ this _. Just the fact I’m madly in love with you and I was an idiot to think it wouldn’t get in the way of everything._

He thinks Shoyo’s noticed the difference. Aftercare was always soft between them - was that normal for this sort of thing? Atsumu overthinks. - But this time, it just _felt_ different. To be frank and shamelessly crude, sex felt more like an afterthought between them both. 

Atsumu was beginning to fool himself into believing his feelings were returned. 

It’s 3 a.m. when he decides he has to end their arrangement. 

The sun rises, and Shoyo with it. 

It’s 9 a.m. when Atsumu tells Shoyo last night was the last they’d spend together.

“Huh?” Immediately, Shoyo sits up. He looks shocked, brows furrowed in worry and panic taking over. But he quickly composes himself, much to Atsumu’s surprise. Shoyo’s gaze is serious, “That’s alright, but please tell me, did I overstep at all? You can be honest.”

Atsumu’s taken aback, eyes wide as he shakes his head, “No, not at all. Yer perfect, Sho.”

He doesn’t know what else to say. Should he just throw his heart out there? Is he supposed to confess now? Shoyo looks confused, stays quiet, once again waiting as if he expects Atsumu to say more, as well. 

“Alright. Yeah,” Shoyo crawls out of bed, stretching, “That’s okay then! Thank you for telling me, I really hope things aren’t awkward, though!” He laughs, but Atsumu feels like there’s hurt behind it. 

It’s 9:30 a.m. when Shoyo leaves Atsumu’s place, leaving him with nothing but the imprint in his sheets where he laid next to him. Atsumu puts his hand over the spot. It’s still warm, but soon that would be leaving too. 

...

Atsumu’s starting to think that he shouldn’t make such adult decisions on his own. But, really, who’s he supposed to talk to? 

He’d talk to Osamu, and he has just a bit, but he’s not in the mood for a lecture. Atsumu knows he can be an idiot, on his own. There’s Bokuto, but Atsumu’s fairly certain that’d be a bigger mistake than any he’s made. Not because he wouldn’t help, he just isn’t great with secrets. And Omi.. too awkward. 

Atsumu shakes his head, attempting to rid the thought of Omi’s disgust as he hears Atsumu’s imaginary confession; _Shoyo and I slept together, and it was great, like really great. But I have a massive fuckin’ crush on him. And now I cut things off and totally fucked up._

And Shoyo seems fine enough, when they see each other. He’s just as chipper, and their teamwork isn’t at all impacted. Atsumu really thinks that he’s the only one affected by this. It would make sense to him, after all _he’s_ the one who screwed himself over.

For a while Atsumu thinks it’s settled. He’ll yearn hopelessly for Shoyo, like some romance protagonist, and Shoyo will remain as perfect and oblivious as ever. 

Atsumu finds his biggest mistake was believing Shoyo was oblivious.

A month after things are cut off, Shoyo texts him. At first Atsumu worries. He was just getting used to taking up the whole bed again, adjusting to nights alone and embarrassing. The last thing he needs is to resort to desperation.

He wants to be spiteful, towards whom he doesn’t really know, and not open the text. But nerves get the best of him. Tentatively, he opens the message. 

sho, 8:34 p.m.

‘hey tsumu!!! sorry but… can we talk? its kind of super important ><’ 

And, really, how could Atsumu say no? 

The next day he meets Shoyo to grab lunch. But Atsumu’s far too invested in whatever it is Shoyo needs to talk about to eat right now. Truthfully, his hopes are high, though he tries to humble himself. They haven’t even left the outside of Atsumu’s apartment complex before Shoyo clears his throat. 

“Atsumu, I like you.”

So much for humbling himself, now how does he convince himself that this is really happening. He looks at Shoyo, whose eyes are shut tightly, the blood rushing to his face. 

“I’m sorry! I told myself I wouldn’t tell you because we ended, um, things. So I thought you hated me,” Shoyo’s looking at him now, and though he looks completely hung up on nerves, he smiles, “But I really, really like you. Not because of what we had!! Not at all! I like _you_.”

It might be the strangest confession Atsumu has ever heard, confessing after going from regularly seeing one another to spending nights alone. Shoyo is shameless, even as he stumbled through his words. 

“Atsumu?”

He blinks. Suddenly, Atsumu feels as if he’s been rendered _completely_ speechless. To be left in such a state with Shoyo to witness was rare; usually reserved for moments where Shoyo was unaware of just how bad Atsumu had it for him. When he first saw Shoyo play for the first time, and every time after that. Atsumu was always amazed by Shoyo. 

This was a different kind of speechless. He’s busy thinking about how he never imagined the possibility of this happening, he hadn't even prepared a confession of his own, feeling too embarrassed at how ridiculous he had sounded. 

And he’s thinking about the moments shared with Shoyo, when they were still breathless and sweating, the words shared with no space between them were so honest and so intimate. Gentle touches, everything Shoyo did was so full of love. 

He thinks back to the night where Shoyo hovered over him, after pressing a litany of kisses on his face and neck, when he looked down at him with such a soft smile, adoration in his eyes. Atsumu didn’t think he’d seen it before. 

Atsumu feels stupid. So, so stupid. 

“Shoyo, listen. I cut things off because,” he sighs, eyes flitting back and forth, “I feel the same way. I’ve been in love with ya for a while. That’s why I ended things.” 

But by the look on Shoyo’s face, he isn't alone in the feeling.

They’re both silent for a moment, surely both hit with the realization of how ridiculous they both were. Shoyo’s the first to give in with a breath laugh, sounding disbelieved. And it's hard for Atsumu not to join in too, Shoyo’s laugh is bright and contagious. 

When they both settle down, Shoyo’s the first to speak up again, smiling at Atsumu like he’s the most beautiful thing he’s seen. Atsumu can’t see himself, but the strain on his face lets him know that he mirrors the expression. 

“Would it be dumb if I really _really_ asked you out now? And this time we can really take our time and work things out.” 

Atsumu hesitates. He worries that he’ll make another mistake, another stupid decision. But this wasn’t like his previous choices. There was no dodging his real feelings now. Feelings that have been returned all along. 

Atsumu shakes his head, “Not dumb at all. I’ve been waitin’ to _really_ date ya for years now.” 

Even if he is taking a risk, makes more mistakes down the line, he’s sure that this isn’t one.

**Author's Note:**

> this is just a quick thing!! experimenting. i just like writing about atsumu pls


End file.
